Solutions to Any Problem
by Posthumous Immortality
Summary: When given the difficult task of mediating a treaty that will change the political landscape of the continent, stress begins to take its toll on Corrin. Luckily for him, Azura has just the solution to both of his problems.


**The M rating stands for "containing content that is against the rules except no one enforces theM."**

* * *

Azura lightly rested her fingers on Corrin's forearm, rubbing small circles into his wrist. His skin was warm, like a fire that was extinguished save for a few glittering coals, radiating away the last of their heat. On the other side of the mahogany desk, she observed his writing hand falter for a moment at her cool touch, before he clutched his quill tighter and continued to scribble onto a long roll of paper. His head twitched, but he didn't so much as glance at her, even as she brushed against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

She wasn't deterred by his discipline at all; it only challenged her to elicit a greater reaction from him. Reaching forward, she clasped his closer hand with her own, intertwining their fingers. Corrin tensed as she laid her other hand on top of the two, squeezing gently. The quill froze, a bead of night-black ink dropping onto the table and barely missing a sheaf of maps and notes.

"Azura?"

"Yes, my love?"

"You're very distracting, you know."

She smiled mischievously. "I'm sorry dear, I thought I'd help you relax a little." She released his hand, and stood up behind him. Her hands rose to his shoulders, her fingers slipping underneath his navy blue cape to press through his shirt and into his knotted muscles. Corrin shivered at her touch. "You've been so stressed about the treaty, and I haven't been able to assist you as much as I wanted to."

As a progressively-minded and conflict-averse leader with ties to both Nohr and Hoshido, Corrin was given the enormous task of redrawing the permanent borders of almost every country on the continent. This didn't just mean simply creating the Kingdom of Valla from ceded Nohrian and Hoshidan territory; it also meant reviving the lost nation of Kohga, and ending the tensions between Cheve and Nohr. Azura's husband was also determined to complete the first draft completely on his own, avoiding input from anyone who could, by intention or accident, sway his own judgements.

"It's no b-big deal, Azura." Corrin's voice hitched as her thumbs hit a sore spot below his neck. Judging from the tone of his voice, her husband was quite enjoying her impromptu massage. "If I keep going through the night, it should be done by tomorrow morning."

"Corrin…" Azura whispered, placing her head next to his ear. "It's not healthy to go without sleep." Gently, she extricated the quill from his hand, returning it to its holder. "The conference isn't for another three days. You can take a break now, and leave it for the morning."

He seemed reluctant. "But I told Shura that I'd have the Kohga proposal prepared by tomorrow. The new archduke and daimyo want to give their input as well before I finalize their borders."

"Wouldn't you prefer to… _relax_ with me instead?"

It was impossible to pretend that she hadn't been thinking of something far more specific than 'relax.' Azura wasn't so shameless as to hint at indecent acts in the presence of others, but when it was herself and Corrin alone, she saw no reason to keep her desires hidden from her husband. The past week had been stale and repetitive, as she shouldered the burden of administrative work that he just didn't have time to do. She was bored. She wanted excitement.

Blushing faintly at her implication, Corrin shook his head firmly. He picked up the quill, dipped it into the inkwell, and began to write once more. "I made a promise, Azura. I'd love to spend more time with you, but I just can't do it today."

Azura pouted, her plan thwarted, and stepped back from the desk to give him space to work. "If you say so, Corrin." She ruffled her husband's snowy white hair affectionately. It was growing longer than she personally liked, but it was only slightly easier convince him to get a haircut as it was to get him to wear shoes. "Please come to bed at a reasonable hour, at least."

"I will," he affirmed in an unconvincing tone.

Curled underneath the sheets in a silken nightgown, Azura watched the bedroom door with sleepy eyes, waiting for Corrin. He never entered, even after the candles had all but melted away, and the firelight had dimmed to hazy embers. Hesitantly exiting the warm embrace of her blankets, she slipped out into the hallway to look for him. Normally, it would be considered undignified for her to stroll around barefoot and in her night clothes, but she did not encounter a single soul on the walk to Corrin's study.

Her hand rapped lightly on the door, but there was no response from inside. She slowly nudged the door open. "Corrin? Are you still— Oh."

Slumped over his desk, with the loosely held quill leaving behind a dark dot of ink soaking into the paper, Azura's husband was fast asleep. She sighed in exasperation. He had pushed himself too hard again. She considered summoning a servant to bring him back to the couple's bedroom, but it would be difficult to do so without rousing him. And if he did wake up, Corrin would almost certainly insist on returning to his work, or he would simply sneak out after she fell asleep. If she wanted him to rest as much as possible, it would be for the best to leave him be.

Azura sidled up to him on light feet, and pecked him on the cheek. He didn't stir. "Sleep well, Corrin."

* * *

"And when I came back, they were gone! I'm telling you, Your Highness, it was that Weber who took 'em! I'm begging you to do something about it."

Azura held up her hand for silence, and the greying Hoshidan farmer reluctantly stopped talking. "I do not see the basis for your complaint. Mister Weber has already given an adequate alibi to the royal guard—"

"He's lying, milady!"

Scowling at the interruption, Azura continued, resisting the urge to raise her voice. "I cannot take your word over his and expend the valuable time of our knights to investigate the disappearance of three chickens in an area rife with wolves and birds of prey. You are dismissed."

The man grumbled angrily as he stomped out of the throne room. Between his huffing, Azura's ears picked out a few stray words. "The one time I… she's here..." It didn't take a genius to infer that he was talking about her. Normally, it was Corrin who entertained citizen complaints, but in his absence, Azura had reluctantly accepted the duty. Unlike her husband, she had neither the patience nor the popularity to be an effective mediator for a citizenry of so many clashing cultures. The trouble with raising a new kingdom from already populated land was the widespread nationalist fervor that inevitably led to conflict and divisions. Achieving peace and harmony was a long process, and Corrin's treaty would either make it marginally easier or much more difficult.

The chamber was clear of people. At the beginning of the session, Azura had declared that she would only see a small number of complainants. Her husband was already an hour deep into his meeting when she started, and now two hours later, he was likely in the final stretch.

A goblet of water appeared beside her. Holding it was a smiling Kaze, who respectfully inclined his head. "You seem tired, milady."

Azura gratefully accepted the drink, her posture slumping. "It's difficult work. I don't see how Corrin does this."

"A good compromise leaves everyone angry. It's unreasonable to believe that you can solve every dispute in a way that leaves both parties satisfied, milady. Lord Corrin tries his best to do that, but even he is not as successful as you may believe."

She nodded slowly. "Perhaps not, but I do still think that I have quite a bit to learn from him." She passed the empty glass back to Kaze. "Now then, do you know if Corrin has finished his meeting?"

"I believe that I saw Sir Shura as I passed the stables, so I assume that they have concluded their discussions." The smile on Kaze's lips quirked. "Would you like me to ensure that your private chambers are not disturbed for the next few hours?"

"Kaze!" Azura gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. "I don't appreciate your snide insinuations!" She paused thoughtfully. An plan was forming in her mind. "But that would be preferable, yes."

Azura waited in a small antechamber situated between the couple's bedroom and the hallway. A pair of scissors lay on a table in the middle of the room, the afternoon sun causing the blades to glint. Beside the table was a wooden stool that she had pilfered from a storage closet, and underneath that, a thin old blanket, its edges frayed and colour fading, but otherwise intact and free of holes.

The door creaked open, making her jump up. She took a quick breath, and collected herself, reassembling her mask of calm. Corrin poked his head around the frame. "Is that you in here, Az? I was wondering if you saw my other inkwell—" His eyes darted to and from each piece of the odd arrangement of furniture. "What's all of this for?"

"You need a haircut before the conference, and I thought that I would do it myself," Azura answered sweetly. "I don't want you to look like an ragged wolf in front of everyone." Her husband turned pale, looking apprehensively at the shiny pair of scissors. He had an aversion to sharp objects near his ears, which made it difficult for anyone to convince him to cut his hair.

"Do… Do I have to?" Corrin squeaked. His hand rose up to his neck self-consciously. "What if I like my hair the way it is?"

His cute reaction put a tiny smile on Azura's face. "Were you planning on just rolling out of bed and presenting the treaty?"

He visibly deflated at the mention of the his task. "I… yeah, you're right." Corrin trudged towards the stool, and eased down himself with a sigh. "Please get it over with quickly."

Azura circled around him like a hawk observing its prey. Her husband stared at the ground, not reacting underneath her gaze. After three revolutions, she set to work, pinching locks of his hair between her fingers as she worked the scissors, and catching and discarding the tangled tufts onto the blanket. It took just five short minutes for her to trim his previously messy mane to an acceptable level of tidiness.

She set the scissors down and began to brush away the stray hairs that had fallen across Corrin's face and the back of his neck. "So, what went wrong?"

"Nothing went wrong," Corrin replied curtly.

Azura clicked her tongue disapprovingly and crouched down to look at him properly. "Did someone disagree with your plans? You know you can't please everyone, Cor."

"...It wasn't just one person. It was all of them, including Shura. I… I need to start over."

"Corrin?"

He jumped up and hasted towards the door. "I have to get back to work. I'll find a way to make this work, Az. I will."

"Corrin, wait."

He hung his head and kept walking.

* * *

Corrin kept to himself for the next few days. Although she was never explicitly told to leave him be, Azura wasn't so socially inept to miss his clues. But when her concern had finally bubbled past its limit, she didn't bother to knock. The night before the conference, her husband was still obsessing over the tiny details in his borders proposal. Even the ownership of tiny ponds in the middle of the empty countryside and boulders in the desert were being contested, forcing him to constantly draw and redraw boundaries to satisfy the demands of every representative on the continent. It was utterly ridiculous to her, their complete inabilities to compromise.

Azura pushed through the door, slamming it back on its hinges. The great thumping sound she created would have startled almost anyone inside the study, if they were at all attuned to the outside world.

Corrin was curled up in his chair a good distance away from his desk, with his legs pulled up to his chest. His quill lay discarded, inky scribbles and blots littering scraps of paper. From a distance, he appeared frozen, like a statue, but upon closer inspection Azura saw how much he was shaking.

She clutched her pendant briefly, pressing it against her chest. Now, it was more of a decorative piece of jewelry than an essential tool through which she channeled her powers, but it and her song still served its purpose. Particularly, the calming effect it had on those with dragon blood. Without wasting another moment, she gently wrapped her arms around her husband from behind and began to sing.

" _You are the ocean's gray waves, destined to seek_

 _Life beyond the shore just out of reach_

 _Yet the waters ever change, flowing like time_

 _The path is yours to climb…"_

The result was apparent. She felt Corrin melt to pieces beneath her hands as she sung line after line. He slumped in his chair, only held steady by Azura, his tension drifting away. After a few moments of gentle, entranced rocking, he finally sat up straight.

"Are you feeling better now?" she asked him.

"Ah- Yes. But Azura, it's not good for you to do that, is it? You shouldn't hurt yourself for my sake. Not for such a stupid reason…"

She released him and slipped around to stand in front of him. A sly smile spread across her face. "If you insist… But perhaps there's another way I can relieve your tension…?"

"Azura?"

She reached for his belt buckle, and swiftly freed the leather strap from its loops. As the realization dawned on him, Corrin allowed her to pull down first his trousers, and then his undergarments.

With a delicate touch, Azura took hold of Corrin's slowly stiffening cock. She rubbed her thumb across its top, feeling it shiver as it expanded. She met Corrin's stare as she squeezed her fingers around his length. Kneeling between his legs, though continuing to stare her husband in the eyes, she pressed her tongue against the underside of his length, before slipping the entire swollen head into her mouth.

Corrin let out a wince, but Azura was unwilling to stop for too long. Pausing her lavish treatment for a brief second, she mumbled to him, "Let me take charge, Corrin."

He rested a shaky hand on her head, made a soft sound and gave a tiny nod of assent. Suckling his tip, Azura sensed a thin fluid dribble out against her tongue. Taking it as a good omen, she carefully slipped more of his length deeper into her mouth, and then pulled back, repeatedly.

Time blurred, and her focus narrowed to a singular point. She felt a twitch run through Corrin as she continued her ministrations. Then a shudder. Her husband whimpered quietly, his fingers running mindlessly through her hair. "Ah… Azura…"

Releasing it from her mouth's embrace with a pop, she eagerly began to rub her husband's now-slick shaft, trying to bring him to climax. Corrin gave one final groan before Azura felt a spurt of warm liquid erupt against her face. The substance splattered all over her upper body, clinging to strands of her hair, dripping from her cheeks, and dotting her dress.

As Corrin leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling in what was presumably bliss, Azura began to dutifully clean both herself and him. She used her fingers to wipe the thick substance from her face and hair, instinctively slipping her digits into her mouth for a quick taste. It wasn't the most delicious thing she'd consumed that day, but the flavour was not completely unenjoyable. Then she enveloped Corrin's limp cock to remove the final vestiges of his fluids. Azura stood gingerly, hearing her knees pop.

"W-wait…"

Azura looked at Corrin questioningly. "Yes, my love?"

He struggled to sit up, his elbows pushing down on the armrests of his chair. "Azura, it shouldn't just be me that…" His words trailed off awkwardly, but the meaning was clear.

"Well…" A fire began to pulse between her legs. Azura had been putting aside her own wants for Corrin's sake, but her self-control was beginning to wane.

She restrained herself until the couple had returned to their bedroom, with Corrin hurriedly slipping on his trousers for the short, hasty walk back. There, he undressed again, articles of Azura's clothing quickly joining his. At her insistence, he lay back on their ornate four-poster bed, his shaft already stiff again in anticipation of a second round.

Her silky white panties and stocking already discarded, Azura positioned herself over top of him, his tip just brushing the edges of her centre. With a deep exhale, she impaled herself on her husband. A warmth spread through her, the sensation of being filled after a week without intimacy finally scratching the itch that had been bothering her.

Beneath her, Corrin's face was one of lazy contentment, and though she tried to remain collected, Azura was certain that her expression mirrored his. They stayed like that, connected, savoring the feeling.

Her hands, positioned on either side of Corrin's chest, kept her steady. His rested lightly on her hips. With a little effort, Azura began to push herself up, before falling back down, over and again. The delicious friction inside of her triggered a pang of pleasure and her own soft whimpers.

"Mmm… Cor-rin…"

"Keep going, A-Az…"

She could feel tiny droplets squelching around in her centre. Whether they came from her or Corrin or both, she didn't know. All she could comprehend was the slowly building pressure, waiting to be released in a rush the moment she lost control.

But it was her husband who fell to pieces first. Spurts of his fiery discharge flooded through Azura, dribbling out of her to form a thick puddle that eventually reached the bedsheet, staining it. The newfound heat triggered her own climax, and her own surge added to the mess. With a sigh, she slipped off of Corrin and sprawled beside him, completely ignoring the soiled linen that they were lying on.

"That was nice, wasn't it?" Azura mumbled against his chest.

"Yeah…" His serene, loving gaze turned to one of concern. "Oh… The treaty…"

She placed a finger against his lips. "Let me take charge of this."

* * *

In what was a rare display of emotion, Azura stonily glared down at the dozen representatives lining either side of the conference table. Even though all were respected diplomats, and some even personal friends of hers, she couldn't spare them any of her wrath for the grief they had inflicted on Corrin.

"Now then, are the terms of the agreement acceptable?" she asked. "Or would you prefer to continue your meaningless drabble that will accomplish nothing for the peace and stability of our continent?"

A general mutter of assent rolled through the room. As the final treaty was passed around the table to be signed, Azura sat back down next to Corrin. She smiled at the relief on his face.

"See what happens if you let me take charge?"

* * *

 **Take a drink every time someone is massively out of character.**

 **Don't mind the plot holes behind the curtain. And the progressively lazier writing. And the lack of proofreading.**

 **Corrin and Azura together is definitely a little icky if you think about it, but it's hardly the worst case in the series.**


End file.
